That Don't Impress Me Much
by Br0wn3yedGirl
Summary: Lily Evans is used to the undying love James Potter has bestowed upon her, much to her dismay. Would a change in Potter's affections cause a change in the heart of this 16-year-old red head? Or is she still unimpressed? Lily's journal-6th year
1. Welcome To The Madness That Is My Life

**A/N** Yay new Lily/James fic. It seems like there just aren't enough of those on the site, which is odd cuz there is a LOT. Hm, go figure. Anyways this fic is written as Lily's journal that she kept during her 6th year.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the song below and no I don't own Harry Potter…unfortunately.

* * *

_I've known a few guys who thought they were—pretty smart_

_But you've got being right down to an art_

_You think you're a genius you drive me—up the wall_

_You're a regular original, a know-it-all_

_Oh-oo-oh you think you're special_

_Oh-oo-oh you think you're something else_

_Okay, so you're a rocket scientist_

_That don't impress me much_… (By Shania Twain) 

* * *

**September 1st**

**My room**

Have you ever had the feeling that you wanted to kill someone so badly that you didn't even care what the consequences were? Cuz that's what I'm feeling now—that the revenge and pleasure of murder would be worth the sentence to Azkaban that would follow…and even the severe whooping my parents would give me.

My chosen victim: Petunia Evans.

Yes, my own sister, my own flesh and blood. Good lord how I just wish I could wrap my fingers around her throat and—

Whoa, I'm getting a bit carried away there. Normally I'm not that violent or murderous; I'm just sweet little Lily Evans. True I am a _very_ calm individual, but I do not have the innocence of a child. I _am_ 16 years old. I can be assertive, hell; I can be bloody _aggressive_ if you rub me the wrong way. It takes a lot to set me off, but when you do manage to do it; it's not pretty.

Petunia, however, seems to have an unusually consistent talent for heating me up way passed my boiling point, if you catch my drift. Take today for instance. It's the first day of my 6th year at Hogwarts, and what does that insolent little _monster_ of a sister do? _She breaks my wand_.

You probably think I'm pulling your leg, but I am not the type to make a joke of a serious situation such as this.

I was sitting in my room this morning, double-checking that I had packed everything required for my last year at school, when I hear a knock on my door. Since it's more of a rude, impatient tap, I figure it's my sister Petunia, and since last night she had made a complete fool of me to her fat-arsed pig of a boyfriend, Vernon, I ignored it.

I have awful butterfingers so as I was picking up my wand to examine it and make sure it wasn't damaged in any way, it slipped from my fingertips and rolled across the floor towards my door, which Petunia had taken the liberty of swinging wide open.

"Could you hand me my wand, Petunia?" I asked her stiffly.

She looked at me like I was utterly insane, glanced down at my wand and flinched as if the sight of it burned her precious muggle-only eyes. I sighed knowing that there was no way in _hell_ she was going to touch that thing and said,

"Really, Petunia, it's a stick of _wood_ for Merlin's sake," Petunia narrowed her eyes at the sound of the name "Merlin" but I couldn't care less, "Just pick it up and hand it to me, it's not rocket science."

Slowly, and much to my absolute shock, Petunia reached out a hand and gently lifted my wand off the floor. She lightly rolled it between her fingers and then raised it up sharply, into a dueling position.

When she caught site of me staring she carefully lowered my wand and glared from it, to me, and back to the wand again.

"It's not fair," she muttered more to herself than to anyone else, her eyes never leaving my wand in her hand, "Why are _you_ the one who gets to learn all the magic tricks; while I'm stuck in school learning Algebra and Biology and Spanish?"

"Well Petunia, I _did_ teach myself French in when I was 12," I pointed out.

Petunia ignored me and continued ranting to herself.

"Our parents are so _proud_ of Lily, so very proud to have a witch in the family. A lazy witch who learns how to pull rabbits from hats and turn teacups into rats at her 'school!' And while she does this, _I'm_ studying for my math final!"

"You think _my_ school doesn't give finals?" I cried in outrage, "You think I don't have to _work hard_ at my school? Let me tell you something, Petunia, I work _and_ study 10 times more than you do! You don't even know what _hard _work _is_!"

"How dare you!" shrieked Petunia, tightening her grip dangerously on my wand, "How _dare_ you! You…you…you _freak_!"

"DON'T YOU CALL ME THAT, PETUNIA!" I roared at her, standing up so quickly and furiously that she recoiled about 2 feet into the hallway.

"But…but that's what you _are_!" cried Petunia, trying to gather up the dignity that had not been scared away from her, "You worship this pathetic stick of _wood_! Without it; you'd be _nothing_!"

Her last sentence echoed throughout the hallway. What a time to finally have a sisterly twin thing; we both seemed to register at the same time exactly what that last sentence meant…_and_ exactly what Petunia was going to do…

"Petunia!" I gasped, panicking, "_Don't_—"

But it was too late. With a sickening crack, my wand snapped in 2 and fell at the feet of my muggle sister.

I stared at the floor, dumbstruck. Shards of willow were spread throughout the break in the middle, and I caught sight of the loveliest strand of hair I'd ever seen. It was long and so purely white; it almost looked silvery. It was the core of my wand; a unicorn hair.

I couldn't bear to touch my ruined wand. It had been delightfully swishy; a very nice wand for charm work. It was made of willow, filled with a unicorn hair, and 10 ¼ inches long. But the thing that hurt most, was not even how much it would cost to replace it; but the fact that there was no other wand in the world exactly like it, for no two wands are alike.

My eyes welled up with tears, and I didn't think I was being the least bit childish about this whole thing. What no one would ever get was that this wand had been my companion for _5 whole years_ of my life! Almost all of my time at Hogwarts; My most important years! All of my spells had been performed with this wand for the first, second, third and all the times passed that. And now, my oldest friend was dead. Gone and never to return.

I squeezed back the tears in my eyes and suddenly was filled with a rage so fierce, that I believe I would've _actually killed_ Petunia. I am so serious; I was that mad.

But me, being the mature little frump I am, stormed away into my room to write this to try and avoid any murder attempts I would've otherwise made.

Oh dear, my mum's shouting at me that she's starting the car. I'd better go or I'll be so late; I'll miss the train!

**September 1st**

**Hogwarts Express**

So it's obviously quite clear that I didn't miss the train, even if it was by approximately 12 seconds. Ah well, all's well that doesn't start with my parents having to contact Dumbledore to send additional transportation to come and ship his tardy daughter's arse up to school. Haha.

**Later That Night**

**My Dormitory**

Is it absolutely necessary for Potter to ruin my first day back at Hogwarts EVERY YEAR? I mean, really. Don't you think that if he just put a _little_ effort into it he could spare me one first day back without a huge catastrophe involving his three hoodlums of best friends, Severus Snape and ultimately _moi_?

Of course not; because that's not the way James Potter operates. Allow me to elaborate on the course of the rest of the day, after my last entry:

I had just finally settled down comfortably in my compartment when I was joined by two of my three best friends, Rosemary Herring and Trina Sprocket. The first thing I noticed was the other member to our little quartet, Eva Meredith, was not present.

This was very strange, since the four of us are rarely seen apart from each other. We're like different parts of a single person. Rosemary's a wise-ass, Eva's a sweetheart, I'm logical and Trina, well let's just say she reminds me of Gilligan from the muggle TV show, _Gilligan's Isle_. She's a bit slow, a bit cowardly, and an utter idiot—a fool.

But we love her anyway.

Even if she IS a Slytherin.

I know, oh I _know_ what you're thinking. Why the hell are you hanging out with her, Evans? She's going to be evil…PURE EVIL in the future! I am _telling_ you; lose ties while you still can!

Well, apart from the fact that Trina is too stupid and cowardly to be evil (though she must have some cunning in her to be deemed worthy to follow in the slippery footsteps of Salazar Slytherin) I also strongly and highly oppose house racism. Does it really matter if some silly old hat deposited you in "The Big Bad House" instead of the "Good Strong House?" It's not where you're put, it's what you make of your years at Hogwarts.

That being said I am COMPLETELY OKAY with the fact that Trina is in Slytherin. And the fact that Rosemary's in Ravenclaw, Eva in Hufflepuff and myself in Gryffindor. What does it _matter_? We still care about each other and we're still the best of friends.

Anyway, getting back to the day's events, I therefore inquired as to where our dear friend Eva was at this point and time.

"Oh," said Rosemary shrugging my question aside, "I dunno, she's probably in the prefect compartment getting her death sentence—I mean badge."

"The _prefect_ compartment?" I said, laughing a bit, but hoping I didn't sound too haughty, "Dumbledore made _her_ a prefect this year?"

Don't get me wrong, I, under no circumstances, would _want_ to be a prefect. Certainly I'd accept the opportunity if it came by, but I would never wish on it. It's too much extra responsibility and frankly, I'd just rather not be loathed by my fellow students any more than I have to be.

It must be a dreadfully boring position—poor Eva.

"I know, right?" said Rosemary rolling her hazel eyes, "We were all _dying_ for the chance to be one, and the old geezer gives it to _her_. Rotten luck."

I raised my eyebrows slightly in disapproval at Rosemary's referral to Dumbledore as an "old geezer." I personally think he is the most remarkable wizard of our age. But to each his own.

And there was the fact that she was joking. Whatever.

"I _know_!" trilled Trina in her canary-like squawk of a voice, "I _so_ wanted to be a prefect!"

Rosemary and I just look at her.

"It's people like her that give meaning and humor to the phrase 'dumb blonde.'" Rosemary says, shaking her head at Trina, who pulls a lock of her long blonde hair (that is currently in a ponytail) in front of her face and examines it as if to check if Rosemary had been referring to her.

Lord help me with the company I keep.

And while I am thinking this guess who strides into our compartment. Go on, guess!

**James Potter**. And his partner in crime, Sirius Black.

The door magically bursting open before him, Potter struts into the center of the room and surveys the area. Sirius just lies against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, smirking in a way that suggested he would be a bystander in the upcoming events.

Good. That's one less ass-hole for me to have to deal with today.

Though it was all very considerate of the two to not have dragged their other two mischief-makers along with them, it did make me wonder as to where exactly the other two _were_.

Suspiciously, of course.

"Where's Remus?" I demanded cutting Potter off before he had the chance to utter a sound out of his now opened mouth, "And that Pettigrew boy?"

Though Pettigrew was as 16 as were all of us, his height begged to differ, so it's sad to say, that even his own best mates didn't bother to correct me on my use of the word "boy."

What was that emotion flickering in Potter's eyes? Was it _jealousy_ because I wanted to know where his other 2 friends were, for the safety of all life forms on this locomotive?

Ha, serves him right, the arrogant little prick.

I'm not even concerned about the other two, really. If you ask me, Remus Lupin is the only halfway-decent one out of the four of them. And Peter Pettigrew, well, he's a blundering nincompoop to put it bluntly.

Now if **Black** had been the one absent, then there would have been adequate reason to panic. But seeing as to how this prankster was securely stationed in the doorway, he appeared, for once, to not be much of a threat.

"Lupin is with the other 'perfects' and Peter is around, what's it to you?" Potter sneered at me.

So Remus had been made prefect again. That's the second year in a row, that is. The poor bloke…

And Pettigrew was…around? That answer didn't satisfy me, but my large almond shaped eyes swiveled up to where James Potter was advancing towards me, and Pettigrew's absence was suddenly forgotten.

There was something about the way he moved, his pace steady and well—cocky that just really made me want to issue him a swift kick in the groin, but at the same time, I felt the nagging desire to be…closer to him…for some unexplainable reason.

I mentally shook off this disturbing new feeling and focused my emerald eyes on Potter in a defiant glare.

Since I was still sitting down, when Potter reached me, in order to speak to me face to face, he placed both his hands on either side of my seat and leaned over me.

"Well, Evans," he said, his voice deep and seductive, "_I'm_ here."

Umm…yay?

His breath smelled heavily of chocolate; which wasn't a bad smell. Actually it was kind of nice, but it _did_ suggest that he had recently been wolfing down chocolate frogs by the ton, which struck me as highly unappealing. I just_ hated_ it when men inhaled food like that. They always eat as if there's no tomorrow.

"Congratulations on successfully boarding the train," I said flatly, "And no, I will not go out with you."

Potter scowled at me, trying to look angry, but I saw his cheeks flush the shade of his Quidditch robes. He would've actually looked kind of cute; if it weren't for:

1) The fact that he's James Potter

2) The fact that, due to fact #1, he is completely infatuated with me

3) The fact that, due to fact #2, he is obsessive compulsive with asking me out and stalks me in a way that makes him seem completely and utterly desperate.

All of the above are way less than attractive, and #2 is probably just all lust, because James Potter seems incapable of loving anyone other than himself.

And maybe his Nimbus 1000 broom.

Though it seems equally unlikely that anyone could feel _lust_ for me. I mean, I know I'm not horribly disfigured, but I refuse to believe that I am the next Jennifer Anniston (a beautiful muggle actress).

Potter's probably only lusting me because I'm the only girl in the whole damn castle who he hasn't slept with. I mean really, how hard is it to NOT jump under a guy's sheets in your starkies and yell, "Okay, I'm ready to lose my virginity now!"

Especially when that guy is James Potter.

Potter stared at me, frustration and embarrassment clashing horribly on his face, and then slowly cracked out a sinister looking smirk.

"Fine, Evans," he spat, "Have it your way. Now if you would be so kind as to follow us up to the roof there's—"

Suddenly I heard a HUGE crash come from the top of the car. A highly painful sounding yelp followed and I could feel something fairly soft yet large, thudding into the window behind me.

Potter's mouth dropped open as he looked over my shoulder, and then he and Sirius exchanged looks and doubled over laughing their egotistical heads off.

Rosemary and Trina, who had remained silent for the most of this escapade, widened their eyes in fear and gasped.

I spun around, my long auburn hair nearly giving me whiplash, and let out a shriek of sheer horror.

There was a body hanging outside the train window, smacking into it as the train sped on faster and faster towards its destination. The body was barely recognizable, because it was blurred by the speed of the train, but it was definitely distinguishable as a 6th year male.

There was a rope bound around the guy's ankles and wrists, and the holder of the ropes seemed to be situated on the roof of the Hogwarts Express. Every time the train crossed over rough terrain, the guy would slip farther and farther down towards the tracks. He was now level with the windowsill.

The guy let out a yelp that informed the 5 passengers in the car that he was somehow still alive, but if he slipped any further…

The train thrust over a bump in the landscape, and the guy did a 180 degree turn as he slipped even lower towards the tracks, leaving his face momentarily pressed up against the window before he slid down it.

It was Severus Snape.

**A/N** well umm…bit of cliffhanger there, I suppose. Lol Review and I'll update sooner! Let me know what you think so far!


	2. Stupidity Can Kill

**A/N** I'm having a lot of fun writing this—I've never attempted a journal fic before! Lol thank you so so SO MUCH to my reviewers; without you, I'd never get the encouragement a person like me needs to update her stories! lol =)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter = Property of J.K. Rowling

J.K. Rowling = Not me

Harry Potter = Not mine

Oh yeah and the song below is not mine either!

* * *

_I, cannot deny,__  
All the evil traits,  
And the filling of the crates,  
When you, do come out,  
And you slither up to me,  
In your pimpin' majesty…_ ("Needles" By System Of A Down)

* * *

**September 2nd**

**My Dormitory**

**3:00 AM…IN THE MORNING!**

Sorry about that…I was so tired; I must've dozed off for a few hours. So anyway…where was I…?

Oh yes! So poor Severus Snape was dangling **two feet** from the train tracks, the train rushing along at no less than 75 miles per hour, and the two responsible for his predicament were laughing at him.

James Potter and Sirius Black were laughing their egotistical heads off once again. If this prank wasn't stopped soon, they'd have the death of a fellow wizard on _their hands_!

But do they care? Of course not. So I did the only thing I could do.

I shot out of the compartment at lightening speed, plowing through James and Sirius and sending them flying into opposite ends of the compartment walls.

I swerved into the hard metallic wall of the hallway, head first, and tasted some of my own blood from my cheek…whatever. I bolted down through the cars, one by one, and they all became blurs until I reached the tender of the engine…and realized I had a problem; there was no car leading up to the conductor's room, just the tender.

I peered over to the side of the tender, and saw a small catwalk leading up to the engine car, but this magical train was going way too fast and to attempt to walk alongside it would be suicide. So I looked upwards and my breath caught in my throat; there was a rusty ladder leading up to the top of the tender, the part with all the coal heaped onto it.

It was then that I really started to panic.

And I mean **really**. I was practically hyperventilating.

I decided to just take a few steps up, just enough to stick my head out over the coal, and shout as loud as I possibly can.

I reached out for the ladder, and the moment I stepped onto it, my vision was obscured by a huge wave of flaming redness. For one wild moment I thought it was fire…but then I realized it was only my hair. I tossed it so that it was whipping out behind me (rather violently if I do say so myself) and took three more steps up.

The moment my head poked up from behind the coal, I opened my mouth in an attempt to breathe in the maximum capacity of my lungs, and was instantly inhaling the thickest smoke I had ever before tasted. It knocked the wind out of me, nearly suffocating me as I was pitched backward at the foot of the ladder, dangerously close to falling off the train, I might add.

My temporarily blackened vision began clearing once I gasped in a few deep breaths of fresh air. I was trembling from head to foot, but the moment I heard another panicked yelp from Snape float by, I struggled to get myself on my feet.

Vision back to normal, I could see two masculine figures rushing towards me.

"Evans? EVANS!" cried Potter as I immediately began to climb the ladder that was on the front of the first car opposite the tender at the sight of him.

I pulled myself up on top of the car in a kneeling position, not daring to stand up. I hugged the roof of the car, and began shuffling myself towards the top of my compartment, which was only three cars away.

"EVANS WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?!" roared Potter. I ignored him, my emerald orbs focused on my next obstacle: jumping between the cars.

There was no way in _hell_ I was standing up, it was even more of a suicide then climbing around the tender! So I scooted to the edge of this car and focused my eyes on a large box-like bump that resembled a mini chimney atop the opposite car. The only way to do this was with a wand…

I cursed Petunia's arse off verbally until I heard the loud _clanks_ of cautiously placed footsteps behind me. I craned my neck around to see that both Potter and Black were _standing_ atop the car, slowly making their way towards me.

I could feel anger and embarrassment flashing through me. I must look like a complete idiot and a _coward_ crawling along on my knees like this…if they could stand, so could I. If **Potter** could stand _so could I_.

Anything he can do, I can do better.

I gingerly got to my feet, and Potter's eyes' blazed with fear. My, I didn't know James Potter could _be_ afraid.

"POTTER!" I shouted at him, "GIVE ME YOUR WAND!" Though I was indeed standing I was **not** going to jump without an assured safe landing.

Potter just stood there, blinking stupidly down at me as if he misunderstood.

"POTTER!" I shrieked desperately, thinking of poor Severus, "GIVE ME YOUR GOD DAMNED WAND THIS INSTANT OR I'LL—I'LL _JUMP_!"

Potter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he handed over the wand. Clutching his shoulder with one hand for support, I raised my free arm and pointed his wand at the chimney like structure I had spotted before.

"_CARPE RETRACTUM_!" I shouted.

A thick, blue-violet, arm-like light shot from the end of Potter's wand, to the box thing, where it wrapped itself around it and jerked me over to it by the wand I held in my hand. Since I was clutching Potter with my other arm, he too was magically yanked across the cars.

And to think that if I only would've released him while we were in midair between cars…

Oh I'm **horrible** sometimes!

Anyway, Black didn't need persuading _or_ magic, he simply took a great leap and landed with cat-like skill a few inches short of us.

Now that I was standing up I could see out over to where Snape was.

What I saw was completely unnerving.

Peter Pettigrew was atop my compartment, holding in his grubby little hands the rope that bound Severus. The little weakling was huddled in fetal position, and every once in awhile a length of rope would slip from his grasp before he could regain his grip on it. He looked now as if he was deciding whether or not to just let the rope go and beat it, or stick it out and probably be pulled over himself as well as Severus.

Pettigrew was always notoriously known for trying to save his own skin before he even _thought_ about assisting others, so this was _not_ going to end up good if we—I, if **_I_**, didn't hurry.

I sized up Pettigrew quickly, he was a pretty **large** bloke. Steady…could probably hold my weight…

I thrust Potter's wand out in front of me and aimed it carefully at Pettigrew.

"_CARPE RECTRACTUM_!" I yelled, and I watched as the blue-violet arm reached out and wrapped around Pettigrew's stomach, causing him to squeal in terror and nearly drop Snape entirely.

I felt myself jerked upwards by Potter's wand and I was soaring across the remaining two cars. I landed a foot in front of Pettigrew and he immediately threw his arms up in surrender.

"_I didn't do it_!" he wailed pathetically but I wasn't listening.

"PETER YOU **FOOL**!" I shrieked, diving forward and snatching the rope that he had dropped.

I was lying flat on my stomach, my head and shoulders hanging over the train, as were my arms, which were desperately trying to not be torn from my body as they clung to the rope holding Severus. No way could I pull him back up, or even hold on to him for much longer.

I felt a pair of rather strong arms encircle my waist and knew the Potter had come to my aid. He attempted to pull me and Severus back up, but when he realized he couldn't, he just grabbed onto me and layed there with us, adding to the weight supporting Severus.

I looked around and saw Sirius and Peter just _standing_ there. Well, Sirius was standing; Peter was trembling on the center of the car, still in fetal position.

"BLACK!" I shouted at Sirius, "STOP THE TRAIN!" He gave me a blank look.

"And _how_ do you suppose I do that?" he shouted over the roar of the train.

"I DON'T KNOW!" I shrieked at him, "BUT UNLESS YOU GET THIS GOD DAMN TRAIN TO STOP, THREE STUDENTS, ONE OF WHOM IS YOUR **BEST FRIEND,** ARE GOING TO DIE YOUNG!"

The bit about Potter got Sirius moving. He took running leaps back to the tender, and we watched as he was reduced to a smoky silhouette, do to the fact he had climbed _on top_ of the coal, in a determined attempt to reach the conductor.

You must hand it to him, that Sirius Black is one tough cookie.

Eventually, he disappeared into the engine room and all too soon, the entire train skid to the most sickeningly high-pitched screech of a stop I'd ever been blessed to bear witness of.

What happened then, in short, is the conductor of the train got out, and he and Sirius magically levitated us to the ground one by one.

The moment I felt my feet touch the earth, I whipped around to face them all, and there were about a million things I wanted to scream at them, some of them being:

1) Oh my GOD you ASSHOLES you are in so much trouble I'm going to report you the moment we get back to school and have you all EXPELLED!

2) _Good job_, Black! That brave type of reckless quick thinking might come in handy when I have you thrown…IN AZKABAN PRISON!

3) NO POTTER, I WILL NOT GO OUT WITH YOU!

4) PETER PETTIGREW, WIPE YOUR BREAKFAST OFF YOUR PUDGY FACE!

But instead, I just gave them the nastiest glare I could manage and stormed back into my compartment. I was too flabbergasted by this whole experience to even register what the consequences of their actions should be.

All I remember about later is that at some point during the feast, Potter tried to approach me and apologize about the whole incident…and I remember quite distinctly cutting him off with a sharp SLAP across the face.

"APOLOGIZE TO SEVERUS, NOT ME, YOU BASTARD!" I had shrieked at him.

Honestly, how stupid can one be?

**September 2nd**

**My Dormitory**

**10 minutes Before My First Class!**

Holy _cricket_ I overslept! How could this happen to me? And on the **first day** of term, too! I don't even have time to eat breakfast! Ugh…this is going to be one long day.

* * *

**A/N** Well, how was it? I know; it's a shame that Snape didn't die but, sadly, he's kind of crucial to the books, lol. PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. A Charming Disaster

**A/N** Sorry for the wait…I was on a cruise from the 7th-14th and was a bit boat-lagged for a while. Lol, anyway, here's the next chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Harry Potter…if I did, a certain SOMEONE (cough Sirius Black cough) would still be with us :(

* * *

_Step up_

_Sit down_

_Get ready; let me tell you who's the boss now_

_Stay here_

_Get out_

_Every time I turn around you're in my face_

_Don't care where you think you been_

_And how you're getting over_

_If you think you got me down_

_Just wait it gets much colder_—by Ashlee Simpson (from "Love Me For Me")

* * *

**September 2nd**

**Charms**

Oh…my…god. As if running into class 15 minutes late isn't bad enough. I also had a mouth (and hand) full of bagel. My hair was a mess and my robes weren't even buttoned properly. PLUS I also had my other hand clutched around a glass of orange juice.

Honestly, if I weren't…well, me, I'd be dead and buried. Thank **Merlin** I wasn't in this state for McGonagall's class.

I could tell Professor Flitwick was a bit…erm, **disgusted **with my whole breakfast ensemble, but he waved it off as a first day of term thing.

Bless you, Flitwick. Bless you.

My classmates however, were not as forgiving. I believe it'll be a _long_ time before I hear the last of this. But oh well, screw them. I really don't care what they think of me.

Rosemary had a good laugh at me though, as well. As I sat down beside her, I realized that she had no intention of keeping her extreme hysteria (at my expense, I might remind you) to herself. She was laughing her bloody arse off, and I assure you, had it not been for Professor Flitwick's unusually harsh glare in her direction, she would've had no intention of stopping anytime this millennium. And I call **her** my best friend. Lord, what I wouldn't give to have Eva sitting beside me instead, giving me that sympathetic little smile of hers. Unfortunately, we Gryffindors have Charms with the **Ravenclaws**, not the Hufflepuffs.

I sighed tiredly and shoved the rest of my bagel into my mouth (I know, very unladylike on my part but screw it, it was morning and I was _starving_). I quickly drained the orange juice in one long gulp and was rid of the empty glass with a wave of my wand.

Or so I thought…

The moment I took out my half of a wand (I hadn't even bothered to spello-tape it, I'd figured I'd be bright enough to not use it till I got a replacement…guess I hadn't counted on mental damage from severe lack of sleep) and attempted to vanish away the empty glass, I was immediately met with about 50 randomly appearing glasses shooting at me as if I was a dartboard.

I ducked under the table (as did Rosemary, for her own personal safety) and waited for the reoccurring sounds of glass shattering to cease. When it finally did, I reluctantly slid back into my chair alongside a rather amused Rosemary, and grinned sheepishly at Professor Flitwick.

He seriously looked like he was going to have a **stroke**. Right then and there. In the middle of our Charms classroom; because of something **I** did.

And just as I was about to open my mouth and explain to him about the whole wand-breaking incident, the smashed up top half of my leftover piece of wand had a major combustion.

I'm not even pulling your leg. In a second, my WHOLE PATHETIC REMAINDER OF A WAND was engulfed in flames, and I had no option but to drop it (or have my hand burnt off of me).

I dropped it and it landed on the **wooden** table, _and_ on Rosemary's notebook, which burst into flames instantly.

I feel absolutely _awful_, saying this but…better hers than mine!

Wait…no I don't. This is **Rosemary**.

We then both jumped from the table as that caught fire as well, and poor Professor Flitwick rushed over (as fast as his little stubs for legs could carry him, I'm sure) and muttered some spell that caused water to spill from his wand and douse the flames.

When the fire was successfully out, and Flitwick's color returned to his face, he turned to me.

Uh-oh…

Professor, why is the color returning to your face so rapidly? I could swear it's turning very odd shades of red and purple, and I assure you that was _not_ your original coloring.

"_Miss_ Evans…" Professor Flitwick said, his voice thick with a shadow of McGonagall outrage, which needless to say scared me to blazes, "What on _earth_ do you think you're doing?"

"I—it's my wand it—"

"It has a mind of it's own," said Sirius Black wisely from across the room, causing half the male and ALL the female population of our class to snicker at me.

I shot him a death glare (which he returned with a cocky grin and wave…stupid prat; no wonder he's Potter's best mate) and then turned back to Professor Flitwick, my sheepish smile still in place.

"Miss Evans, do _not_ smirk at me!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, his tiny mustache ruffling furiously, "I am your teacher and therefore your superior—"

"No matter how much Miss Evans chooses to believe the reverse," added Sirius, again causing many a derisive laugh for our classmates.

You know, strange as this may seem, I could really do without these little quips from Black at the moment.

_That_ comment got Flitwick's attention, though, and led to Black losing Gryffindor 10 house points. You could tell of course, by the way Sirius simply leaned his chair back on its back two legs and crossed his arms behind his neck that he didn't mind. Hell, he probably was **disappointed** that he didn't land himself a detention. Not that he'd ever let **that **emotion show through. No, no, not Sirius Black.

I'm not the only one who saw this as a possibility.

"Not up to your usual standards, eh Black?" Rosemary taunted him.

Oh yeah, good things about Rosemary:

1) She'll always always ALWAYS stick up for you. No matter what the situation or who the "enemy" is.

2) See good thing #1

3) That's about it…

The entire classroom fell into a hush, students _and_ professor, because of course everyone knew; nobody picks a fight with Sirius Black.

Not that I'd call Rosemary's observation fight-picking material, persay. I'd say it was barely an insult. But as it was **not** lavishing praises, and it was being said to **Sirius Black**, that seemed to be all that mattered.

Sirius's bright blue eyes flashed, and I caught a small wave of surprise pulsing through them before they became unreadable once more.

Geez, for a guy with such amazingly brightly colored eyes, he sure does a pretty good job with keeping them void of emotion. Well, maybe that's a bit too harsh. More like casual. Constantly cool, casual and teasing…whatever he's just weird.

Sirius rose slowly from his desk and focused those remarkable eyes of his on Rosemary's defiant, yet somehow equally cool, hazel ones.

"What did you say to me?" Sirius asked her coolly, stressing the "to me" part as if it wasn't crystal clear whom she was speaking to.

"Not up to your usual standards, eh Black?" repeated Rosemary, with a more robotic tone to her voice as if to assure that Sirius caught each and every word.

Some Ravenclaws, and even a few Gryffindors snickered approvingly, while all the females (me being the exception of course) of both houses shot Rosemary the nastiest series of dirty looks I have ever witnessed being distributed.

It was as if they were all saying, _How dare you insult the hottest boy in our entire school! You shall never be allowed to set foot into any of the girl's lavatories on the second floor ever again!_

Rosemary was somehow unfazed by this imaginary bathroom threat, and she stood up as well, leaning forward on her elbows on the top of the desk, letting her long, straight, dark brown hair cascade loosely down the sides of her shoulders. You could almost feel her eyes boring into Sirius's, daring him to say something back.

There was just the lightest hint of tension, and I was afraid that if I moved, I'd break it and ruin the fragility of the moment.

When all Sirius did was glare back at her, Rosemary curled her upper lip in a sneer and said caustically, "Well Black, you barely lost your house any points at all. _10_? Your friend _Pettigrew_ could earn **that** back in a heartbeat," than, as an afterthought, Rosemary smirked and added, "Or **lose** more than it in a wink," and, as if it would help with her point, she winked one of her heavily-eyelashed hazel orbs.

I don't know what it was about that last comment. Whether it was what she had said, the way she had said it, or even the wink thing at the end, but there was definitely more than anger radiating from Sirius Black's eyes as he glared back into Rosemary's. Something deeper. Maybe it was shock, or maybe it was loathing. Hey, it might've even been **amusement**.

But whatever it was, Sirius spat at her,

"You _bitch_!"

There was nearly a collective gasp from around the room. No one could remember the last time Sirius had had to resort to mere name-calling as a comeback. Normally, Black had enough wit to fill even Potter's largely inflated head (which is by no means any small accomplishment), but he seemed to be at a loss for wise-ass words at the moment.

She must've really caught him off guard.

"Mr. Black!" cried Flitwick, suddenly snapping out of his trance and into lecture-mode, "10 more points from Gryffindor, and detention tonight at 8:00!"

Sirius smirked triumphantly, and gave a long bow to which much of the class responded enthusiastically.

I must admit that even **I** almost clapped for him. It's just the affect he has on you.

Sirius sat back down in his seat, looking extremely pleased with himself, that is, until Rosemary hissed across the room (as she took her seat), "Still only _10 points_ Black!"

Sirius looked instantly enraged, but Flitwick cleared his throat so loudly that the tiny man making such a big sound distracted even Sirius.

As soon as Rosemary was back in her seat, I whispered to her, "Oh my god, I love you!" Rosemary smirked and spread out her arms.

"Don't we all?" she asked no one in particular.

Good things about Rosemary (Revised):

1) She'll always always ALWAYS stick up for you. No matter what the situation or who the "enemy"is, even if it's **Sirius Black**. And if it does happen to be that said "enemy" she has the ability to beat said smart-ass at his own game, and has publicly displayed this skill in front of half the 6th year.

2) See second half of good thing #1

3) _That's_ about it…

I snorted (since I'm not doing very well in the ladylike department today anyway) and turned back to my wand, realizing that this heated debate between Flitwick and I was not over.

Flitwick rubbed his temples exasperatedly before turning to face me once more. But the moment he opened his mouth to speak, the air was filled with quite a different kind of voice.

And to my horror, it was James Potter's voice.

He stood up, and was looking directly at Flitwick with that cocky grin of his in tact.

"Professor," he said in a so obviously sugar-coated tone I expected him to whip out a big swirly lollipop as an accompaniment device, "I do believe the malfunction of Miss Evans's wand is indeed regrettable but not at all her fault—"

My cheeks flushed **crimson** and I wanted more than anything to remove his vocal chords and wrap them twice around his mouth, just incase. I could handle this myself _thank you very much_; I'm a big girl. I don't need non-virgin 16 year olds speaking with my teachers to get me out of trouble.

Flitwick and I seemed to be on the same wavelength, because at that moment he interrupted Potter with a tired, "Mr. Potter, I—"

"I think," said Potter, plowing on and flashing me the cheesiest grin ever recorded in history, "That since Miss Lily Evans is such a lovely, such an amazing, such a god damn hot woman—"

"Mr. Potter—" insisted Flitwick.

"Such an undeniably **sexy** slice of feminine—"

"Mr. Potter!" cried Professor Flitwick, "I believe that's _enough_!"

He turned back to me, but seeing as how I probably looked as if I'd rather be having my limbs sucked off of me one by one by the giant squid than be here at the moment, he let me off with just a warning and insistence that I replace my wand ASAP and he means AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!

Will do, Professor, will do.

* * *

**A/N** REVIEW! Ooo when Lily gets her hands on James is she going to rip him to shreds physically, or with magic? Place your bets everyone! Lol j/k. Let's just say she's gonna be PISSED. REVIEW PLEASE!


	4. Enter Kirby, I mean Kirsten Wettle

**A/N **Woohoo I am NOT dead! Lol it was the school work, I just entered my freshman year in High School and let me tell you it is NO pushover…TOO MUCH HOMEWORK! :(

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Harry Potter…ooh look, a butterfly…

_I see you,_

_Cuz you won't get out of my way_

_I hear you,_

_Cuz you won't quit screaming my name_

_I feel you,_

_Cuz you won't stop touching my skin_

_I need you,_

_They're coming to take you away…_--Breaking Benjamin

**September 2nd  
Gryffindor Common Room**

Oh my lord…what I wouldn't give to strangle Potter with my bear hands and make it look like an accident.

I can't BELIEVE he said that in front of the whole entire Charms class! And to the _teacher_ no less! I don't believe my face has ever turned that brilliantly red at any previous moment in my entire life.

And yet still, in the back of my head there's a miniscule voice saying, _One of the hottest boys in your year just called you **sexy**._

And when I say miniscule, I mean like the probable size of James Potter's…

Haha how _great_ would that be if it were true? Wow, I've just spent one class in the same room as Sirius Black and already I'm thinking very inappropriately. I think I'm going to just pretend I never thought such a thing.

Anyway, I **definitely** do NOT find Potter attractive in any way, shape or form. And I never will. **_Never_**.

I'm currently not speaking to Rosemary due to the fact that the moment we walked out of class, she applauded Potter enthusiastically, which only inflated his overlarge head even MORE. How could she _do _that? I mean, whose side is she on? Potter just bowed and winked seductively at me in response, which caused me to blush even _deeper_ (If that's possible) as he sauntered away with his "groupies."

UGH, Black was right…she is a bitch! And I am NOT a fan of neither Black (amazingly so) nor swearing.

Now Rosemary is trying to get me to talk to her by waving an abnormally large (probably magically enhanced) Swedish Fish in front of my face, while Trina is snorting in hysteria and Eva is shaking her head out of shame in the background.

At least Eva understands the insanity of it all.

**September 3rd  
The Great Hall**

I walk into the Great Hall for breakfast with my journal (well, you) tucked neatly under my arm. I have the most ravishing appetite, as if I've just come back from wandering the desert for several weeks without substantial nourishment.

And suddenly I'm witnessing the strangest thing. So strange I'm almost tempted to believe I'm imagining it.

It's Potter…with a _girl_.

Not to say that this is a particularly unusual sight to behold, I mean, I'm sure he's entertained many a "bonnie lass" in bed, but I've rarely seen him actually _talking_ to one.

Except of course well, me. But I hardly consider that talking. It's more like _harassing_.

And I suppose I'm not too ashamed to admit that I was just a _tad_ jealous. Not because Potter was with another girl; by all means I hope he runs off with the woman and never comes back, but I was more jealous of _her_. Of how she looks.

I mean she's _really_ pretty. Prettier than I'll ever be, that's for sure. She has this midnight black hair, which spirals perfectly down to her shoulders, and these lovely blue-green eyes. Plus, her skin is porcelain white, like a china doll. That's why I'm so jealous.

Not because she's hanging around with Potter.

I think her name is Kirsten. "Kirby" for short.

Sweet, flirtatious giggles issued from the end of the table, where Kirsten (I will NOT call her by her preferred nickname, what kind of name is _Kirby_ anyway?) and Potter were sitting. I watched with what I hoped looked like mild curiosity, though I knew it was quite stronger than that, as Kirb-Kirsten leaned forward and whispered something in Potter's ear. He turned to glance quickly at me before looking back at Kirsten and laughing heartily.

I pushed my breakfast plate back a few inches away from me. Suddenly, I'm not feeling that hungry.

**September 3rd  
Transfiguration**

I can't believe I'm writing in this thing during McGonagall's class. I feel as if I'm writing on my own tombstone, because that's what'll happen if McGonagall catches me.

Anyway, I just have to say that Kirsten Wettle is the most annoying little creature on the planet. Oh I cannot STAND her.

I suppose she is not one who fears Public Displays Of Affection, because she's been literally _hanging_ onto Jam-Potter, the whole entire class so far. Every time McGonagall turns her back to write something on the board, she leans over and whispers something in his ear, using a lot more tongue than necessary…is it possible she may be trying to _eat_ Potter's ear? Maybe I should get some help—

_Eating his ear, Lils?_

Shut your trap Rosemary, and why are you writing in my book?

_Because I leaned over to borrow a quill and I observed that you were mistaking flirting for cannibalism, therefore I felt it was my duty as your best friend to inform you to the contrary._

Look at her! She's practically hissing in his ear—

_She's not hissing she's using strong diction to make her words sound more desirable, lust-filled, sexy._

Get out of my notebook; I get it.

_Finally—_

STOP STEALING MY PEN!

Okay now that Rosemary is safely at her desk with her eyes on HER OWN papers and one of my extra quills to keep her from harassing me further, I can go back to discussing the issue at hand.

KIRSTEN IS SUCH A LITTLE WENCH!

Ew, now her and Potter are holding hands between their desks! What the bloody hell is going on? They're not even _dating_!

…Or are they?

I must ask Trina! It's something good about being best friends with Trina Sprocket: Trina knows everyone's business, all the time. It's actually quite creepy…

**September 3rd  
My Dormitory**

Okay, I just talked to Trina and she said that Kirby and Potter are so definitely not dating. They're just "piling on the flirtations with some heavy cream" as Trina puts it…well whatever it means they're not dating! THANK MERLIN!

I could dance for joy if I wasn't so self-contained.

Wow what is _wrong_ with me? I could've sworn I just felt a huge rush of relief at running Trina's words over in my head. "They're definitely _not_ dating," she had said. Suddenly I feel like inhaling and exhaling deeply in sheer relief.

Wait…what _am_ I talking about? Why should I care who Potter dates? You know what …I don't!

I think I'm starting to fall ill. Maybe I should ask Eva to escort me to the hospital wing.

OW!! Rosemary is beating me mercilessly over the head with a pillow while shrieking, "LIGHTS OUT NERDLET, I WANNA GO TO BED!"

Eva is now wrestling the pillow away from Rosemary telling her to please let me be for just another five minutes, and Trina is flicking the light switch on and off.

Lord help me.

…please?

**A/N** lol REVIEW short chapter I know, but hey at least I'm alive. I just sacrificed an hour of studying for a HUGE astronomy test that's worth like half my final grade to type this up for you so FEEL SPECIAL! Lol I'll update sooner this time, okay? And hopefully it'll be longer. Now review, yo!!!


End file.
